Forgotten of God
by Ranger indecisive
Summary: Aya is a spy working for the Wakir Seley el'then but when Cassandra comes to Arrida to renew the treaty a force of Tualaghi are striving for power. As Aya's position becomes bigger its harder to keep her identity and notions a secret and she must decide is she wants to save her own life of the lives of others. OC fic and rated T ( I might change it) for content and themes.
1. Chapter 1- Meetings of Friends and Foes

**Hello guys. This is a test chapter to see whether you like this story or not. Please post a review at the bottom. If this chapter is confusing please ask me any questions and if I've made any mistakes please feel free to inform me and I'm sorry for any spelling and grammar that has gone wrong, there not really my strong points. **

Forgotten of God 1: Meetings of Friends and Foes

The room was awash with bubbling laughter. Servants bustled through the rooms, their long fingers spread wide like spiders holding silver platters to and from the smaller, white-washed hall way that led down to the kitchens. Men lounged at tables piled with food, laughing and swinging skins of wine so that red liquid spilt and splashed down the fur covered edges. Light haired, dark skinned woman danced on their laps. Bright eyes diluted with heavy drinking, their lips- shades of red and pink- exposed laughing white teeth, but I knew better. However much the girls smiled it was all fake. A mask to hide the sadness behind.

I sighed and sipped at my drink, looking across the tables to see if Tethous was leaving yet. He was easy to find, even though I was looking through a haze of smoke that coiled and uncoiled like rings in the air, and past a sea of sweaty bodies, packed together like one person instead of a hundred. Tethous was tall, his posture as straight and perfect as a twig. He wore swooping black trousers and a leather studded jerkin but what was most recognisable was the long blue veil that hug around his face, showing only a tanned skin stretched across a long noise and two piecing green eyes.

He was standing a little way of from the double doors that lead to the centre courtyard of this establishment. A blond girl, wearing a deep blue rap, showing her dark collarbone and the start of a heavy cleavage was hanging off his arm. Even from this distance, and through the dark veil, I could see his look of distaste in a low snarl but the girl kept hanging on, he long fingers rapped like a vice around his leather clad wrist.

But what was he doing here?

I could still remember the first time I'd been to an establishment like this. I had been seven. Too young to understand the ongoing banter that passed between woman and man, too understand that this was all fake, all for money. The owner of the house I went to had been a woman herself. A deep rich colour of brown, with dark eyes and long curling hair. She had been beautiful, I though, even though she had surpassed her girls by many years. This owner on the other hand did dealings upstairs. Not just what normal houses like this, but more the criminal type of dealings, like planning a killing or buying information for a raid, but Tethous had his own suppliers of information, I knew that.

Why not come to me instead?

The first time I'd come to a place like this, my father had watched me closely in fear that someone would presume I was new stock. He clutched at my wrist and not let go and till we'd get back to the stable and saddled our horses. He had told me to put on my own scarf at the time.

'Cover you face, girl,' he had said passing me a thick black scarf that slipped like water trends through my fingers.

'Why?' I had asked, running a finger along the material.

'There are people who will see your beauty and use it for their own enjoyment,' he had replied and had helped me rap the scarf around my head. The soft cloth had rubbed gently on my scalp, but I did not mind it, it was like clouds from the heavens.

I had not understood then, but I do now.

Tethous suddenly slipped from the doorway, disappearing down through the corridor that lead to the rooms upstairs. I followed silently. Twisting my way through the jumped pine tables and overly populated red and gold futons. Passing severing girls, only aged seven or ten with their wide eyes, unmarked faces from the orange-red powders and greasepaints that the older woman smothered their faces with to make them look prettier. Girls wearing silks, with long open backs, gold and silver chains glimmered at their necks and wound around their long graceful arms. Men at arms, carrying swords and clad in metal studded leather coats and there red chubby faces were spread in wide smiles. All of them moved out of my way as I passed. Fear flashing through their eyes, but the silence would never last long. It _was_ a harlot snuggery after all.

The corridor was long and thin. Darker than the main room, which had yellow tinted fenestra window covered in light wood venetian blinds and white jalousies. Oil lanterns hung from iron brackets on the walls, unlit to reserve the precious lard for the darkness of night. It had rose wood flooring slates, sent in a slanted fashion from the doorframe that opened at the other end. A white curtain tucked behind a grapnel. I passed through silently.

The house was set up like a square with on sector taken from the middle, peer Arrid tradition. The main room was set in on side, running lengthwise on the street side. The other three sides were private rooms and business rooms and upstairs was where I was going. Upstairs was set up similarly to downstairs apart from the square orioles that lead to rounded terraces and lightly painted gables that covered them.

Upstairs was warmer and I felt almost as if I wanted to tug at the blue veil rapped around my neck and throw it through on of the gaping windows but I knew that would be counter-productive for my task at hand. Tethous trusted me or the person I was pretending to be anyway, but my task had never been to get him to confide in me but to find out what he was going.

I followed the only sound that I could hear and till I reached an open door. There was a woman inside. Her hair a fiery colour of red. Faceless to me, her slim slightly tanned skin turned away from me. A mystery woman. Although I could see the lack of clothes that covered her glowing skin, she was seated across from Tethous, not even touching by the hand. A table had been set in the middle, covered in a dark red filament cloth, and golden coins littered the table.

Tethous's eyes rose to meet mine and he blanched slightly before saying, 'Rosa. Leave for a moment.'

The woman hulled a pelt from around her waist and tugged it around her shoulders so it fell around her naked body like some kind of cloak. As she left, her eyes dropped away from mine and her feet moved silently away from the room and drawing away to small padding noises in the distance.

I sat down, annoyed and glared at Tethous. 'What are you going here?' I asked.

I returned my glower, with storming eyes. 'I could ask you the same question.' He replied.

I huffed. _Play it,_ I told myself_, keep calm. He does not know anything about the real you. _'We had a meeting, which my I hasten to add,' I pointed a finger at him. 'You did not bother to come to.' That's what the Tualaghi were like, they do not care about anything. 'So I sent someone to find you, and they took hours and found nothing- insolent cow- so I went looking myself.' I looked down at the table. At the shinning coins, then back to his eyes. 'And I think I know why.'

'If I had gone to your meeting, you would have made me pay extra just to borrow money,' his glower deepened. 'And here it's less expensive and anyway you said you will not give me any money so what was the point to go anyway-'

'I said, I would not give you any money _unless_ you tell me what it's for.'

He looked outraged. 'Do not interrupt me woman!' he shouted standing up.

'Well you should have come to our meeting then,' I hid my fear. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to come here after all, but that did not mean I had to let him see I was afraid of him.

For a moment Tethous looked as if her was going to kill me, but ended up reaching across the table and slapping me in the face. A deep sting exploded in my cheek, but I was pretending to be a Tualaghi and they did not show pain or fear. I looked back at him and he hissed, 'that is for you insolence.' He stood up then. 'If you really want to know, we are planning a raid.'

Finally, what I needed. Information. 'What kind of raid? Desert? Town?'

He looked at me squarely, 'I'm sure you can find out by yourself, woman.'

* * *

In the _Khadif _there was no need to wear the blue veil that kept my identity hidden while I was undercover. I felt better to have my hair down, tumbling down my back with a familiar weight in its brown tresses and curls. I had been in the _Khadif_ many times before and knew the building like the back of my hand.

I was cool inside, the windows open and letting in a cold night wind, and the roof baffles allowed moon light to case itself across the blue and white mosaic floor. The audience hall was long and the walls were a glowing white in the dim light. Thick trunked columns sped up from the covered ground on the first floor and terminated when it reached the cleverly designed roof of glazed windows that vaulted like a square-based pyramid.

I had changed out of my dark set of clothes and put on a light shirt that tucked into swooping, baggy breeches that collected together at my ankles. A thick leather belt covered the ending of the breeches with a long bladed dagger slit in its attached sheath. I fiddled with it as I walked towards the staircase that led to the upstairs gallery where the _Wakir _lived.

As I moved forward towards the _Wakir's _rooms, the guards at the station let me through without little more than a glance. I was a common figure in the _Khadif_. The room beyond was small with two windows on the wall that looked into a private courtyard. I looked through the open glass doors and saw the _Wakir _sitting in on of the shaded benches. I walked towards the entrance of the courtyard, talking the stairs down, two steps at a time and leaping the bottom ones. The guards stationed at the entrance halted me though and went to tell the _Wakir _of my appearance.

'You can go in now,' said the guard coming back and I slipped past him and into the courtyard. Most Arrid houses had private courtyards, in fact I could still remember my father's one however it had been noticeably smaller and less grand.

The _Wakir's _courtyard was neatly laid out with four archways on each of the four walls- one of which I had entered through- adorned with tinted glass panels. As I looked up I could see white cotton shades floating through the windows and coiling like smoke in the wind. The courtyard was alit with three coal pits set in a triangle in the middle of the expansive space. Divans had been placed underneath cotton gazeboes and flower beads and yellowed shrubs littered the dirt between the stone mosaic paths. The _Wakir_ was standing in the middle and next to him was a woman.

As I neared the two I could see the woman was what you could call a foreign beauty. She had very long blond hair, plated down her back in an assortment of twists and twirls. As she turned I could see she had very green eyes with a light intensity to them. The _Wakir_ looked very different in comparison with tanned skin and dark eyes and hair. He was at least a head and a half taller than her.

We greeted each other with the normal Arrid greeting then I bowed my head in a sign of submission before bring it back up. 'Wakir Seley el'then,' I said as a way of formal address, 'I have to come to report on the Tualaghi called Tethous.'

The Wakir nodded, 'report then.'

I told him from the beginning. Of when I had invaded into Tethou's clan and been gaining information slowly. I told him of the meeting that he did not turn up to and to the events that had been played out in the snuggery. 'But I don't think this is any normal type of raid. The caravan does not go out for another five months and the towns are all bled dry of supplied and goods at the moment. But Tethous seemed like it was going to happen _soon_ and…' I pulled off not wanting to ramble.

'And? And what?' the Wakir asked.

I looked him squarely in the face before saying, 'I don't think it's going to be a raid.'

'Why?'

'More and more of the Tualaghi have been joining in the desert. They had a massive camp by the Khor-Abash Wells and more coming by day. There are more than hundreds and I think, well I more than think, there planning something _Wakir _I just don't know what.'

'I though the Tualaghi had been disbanded,' said the Woman, speaking for the first time.

I turned to face her. She was really beautiful. Not the feign beauty that the woman of the snuggery houses had owned, but like a radiant glow and no amount of cosmetics was going to change that. 'You can't disband Tualaghi-' I started to say but the _Wakir_ cut me off.

'What she means, Cassandra, is that you can destroy one Tualaghi clan but then another will fill its place. There killers and it's so hard to travel with a big force of men through the desert, you know that as well as I do. But a force this size... I've never heard of it happening before.'

The woman- Cassandra blanched. 'But when we went out, there were two hundred-'

'That is most irregular,' I said. 'They normally travel in clans of maybe ten or twenty. For the raids they normally commit to doing they need no more than that and it's hard for people to live in the desert for so long. It's really quite cleaver the way they've set up their camp as well, protected on all sides and of course there's like a small town around the Well.'

'A mind for scheming I see,' said Cassandra laughing, then turning to Seley el'then she said, 'this spy of yours reminds me of Halt.'

'Who's Halt?' I asked.

Cassandra smiled, 'nobody important.' She reached out her hand for me to shake, 'I'm Cassandra, of Araluen.'

I had heard that name before and quickly I realised that it was the same person who, with her friends had come and to get the Oberjarl and had in fact been captured by a clan of two-hunderd Tualaghi. 'The princess?' I asked, just to make sure.

'The same,' smiled Cassandra.

'Well I'm Aya. Please to meet you.'

**So that's for chapter 1. If you want me to continue please tell me and I will try and fit in any writing when I can =D **


	2. Chapter 2- Blades of Steel

**Hello guys. I'd just like to thank for the three reviews I got for the first chapter and, like OMG I already got two followers so you're all amazing and like 10 points to slytherin man! So yeah, please review and I'm sorry for any grammar and spellings. This is more of a filler chapter because I wanted to explore my character more but still, it's quite long so I hope you enjoy!**

Forgotten of God 2: Blades of Steel

The dummy crashed to the floor with a walloping thump, dust motes springing from the hard compact sand training ring that was inked out on the floor with a thick black circle. I puffed, leaning forward, one hand against the white-washed wall, trying to catch my breath which toeing the dummy on the floor.

It hadn't taken me long to defeat the stuffed dummy. Of course, it is really different when facing a real living opponent, which I would have been doing if I had been staying at the Spymasters garrison but due to the mission I had been sent on, staying in Al Shabah was imperative and going Mararoc- the capital- would be counter-productive and a waste of time. The training ground for the Al Shabah was fine enough place to practice anyway, it was not as if I _needed_ the training, I had completed that many years before. But for every day for the past ten years I had kept training a principal part of my agenda, but only when possible for sometimes the job called for other measures to be made.

With another inhalation I pushed myself from the wall and ducked to hull the dummy into its righteous position. I walked towards the weapons rack and placing back the dagger I had been using, replaced it with a long bladed saber. I was light and easy to balance in a lose grip in my hand. The pommel was leather, well-worn and soft in my palm. I made a few experimental spins just to be sure. Nodding I walked back to the training circle.

As I entered the ring I became very intentional with my movements. My back arched, shoulders tipped back so I could just feel a strain on my acromion. My head tiled back, eyes wide so that I could view the whole one-hundred and eighty degrees my eyes supplied me with, my brown hair in a tight plait down my back. My knees bent and I rolled gently on the balls of my feet before I spurted into action.

Having started in a low position, I gained extra leverage on my lower leg tendons as I pushed upwards kicking out with one bare foot. My calcaneus hit the dummy in the face, my toes and forefoot bent backwards as to not hit any unexpected impact. I retracted my leg and rolled as I landed so that I could spring back up again.

This time, when I made an advancement, I did it quietly. Slouching over, my feet padding, breathing steady, saber held in my left hand, elbow bent. As I neared, I acted as if the dummy could move to and pretended to evade invisible blades and throwing my own blade out into a defensive attack. It took barely ten seconds before the dummy lolled over again, banging on the ground.

'Do you always make such a racket when training?' asked an unfamiliar voice. I turned towards the Iron Gate that marked the entrance to the training ground. It was a man, tall but not wiry, brown hair short and clipped. He wore loss fitting trousers and shirt: training gear, like me.

I shrugged. 'It depends on what method I'm using,' I said, turning back to pick up the dummy again and placing it back to where it was before.

'Well, seen as I'm going to be training too, could you please be a little more quiet?' He asked, but it sounded more as a command to me than anything.

I huffed, but, 'fine,' is all I said.

* * *

The looking glass was wide and long, stretching from the floor and to the top of the wardrobe, outlined in silver painted metal. I looked different than the last time I had look in a mirror. My face had always been small and pointed at the chin. My mouth curved down at the lips which always seemed without colour. My eyes: blue like the ocean, but they were such a strange colour. Nobody thought my eyes were beautiful but outlandish and eccentric, not nice to look at. My skin was tanned a slight light brown colour. I was not attractive like the girls in the snuggery, with their curling long hair and light blue, soft brown and hazel eyes. They had curvy bodies, made for fitting next to another person. Their skin not scared with cuts and wounds and imperfections, but dark and light chocolate and coco shades, without any blemishes. I sighed and sat down at the wooden vanity table. It did not matter that I was not beautiful for I spent half my life wearing a scarf to hide my identity and it was not as if any men were going to notice someone like me. Arrida houses might run from the woman's line, but that gave no intentions that they approved of a working woman.

I looked down from the mirror, pulling at the knots in my hair. Maybe I should have I all off, I wondered. I'd never seen a woman with short hair, but maybe it would suit me more and it would certainly make it easy to pretend to be a boy as long as I didn't piss when they pissed and wash when they washed.

I peered over the table than at the sound of voices. The room I was staying at was located to the house next to the _Khadif. _It was meant for soldiers but the captain of the garrison had taken one glance at my papers and nodded before explaining the rote to my rooms. The window was next to the looking glass, a big wide widow with white-washed shutters and a poll which hung a large cotton sheet for privacy. I pulled the white sheet aside and looked out.

It was the man from earlier today, but there were more of them now. Twenty, maybe twenty-five. All soldiers from their bearing and most of them seemed no more than late twenties, just like the man. They were set out in a rugged formation of four lines. The man called out commands and the men acted on the commands before he had even finished the words the man had uttered. Of course, he would be a commander of his own small clan, I thought. He differently seemed the part. Then suddenly, without beforehand warning to myself, he looked up as if he had felt my eyes trained on him.

His eyes were green and brown, I saw. His skin was darker in the late sunlight and glowed like a candle in half darkness. He looked hansom, in that regal kind of manner. He smiled as if knowing my thoughts. Cocky, I thought, there was no point in knowing cocky and too confidant people because that generally lead to them being self-centred, and anyway, I told myself, who said you were going to be getting to know him?

I pulled back my head and shock it as if clearing away cobwebs. It would do no good to be thinking about men and even if I were too, cocky people I didn't like.

A knock sounded at the door and suddenly I was filled with thankfulness. It was a distraction from the _people _(not person, I told myself, people) outside the window.

'Coming,' I called and pushing away from the table I went to the door.

It was a man, dressed similarly to the ones outside. He had short hair and his hands were tucked into his belt, carelessly. 'Yes?' I asked, not unkindly, but sharply enough to knock focus into the man's brown eyes, which finally settle onto me.

'The Commander saw you looking,' he said, smiling at one eye of his mouth with an upturned lip. 'And he thought you might be interested in coming down stairs and watching from there.'

'Well…' I said at a loss of words. Maybe, if I hadn't been so eager to go and watch I would have said something clever or rude or defensive. So much for distractions, I told myself.

* * *

Even though I was annoyed at the man's game, which I would not give into a play, it was very interesting to watch. I'd seen clans before and charges and real fights, but the persecutions they made were perfectly thought out. Of course, it would be hard to use some of the formations in a random assault from all sides but the way they turned and reacted to the man's calls were so flawlessly done it was something to marvel at.

They finished the practise, walking over to the edges of the training ground, some removing armour and others placing weapons back at the racks. The man looked over the men and called, 'okay, now we're going to do a wresting, sword to sword and shooting.' The men nodded, almost absently before standing around the centre ring in the middle.

I moved forward from the archway I had been seated in to see more clearly. Two people grappled in the ring, using elbows and knees as well as their clenched fists and knuckles. There feet were bootless and their shirts removed. Even in the hazy light I could see sweat leak from their foreheads, dripping onto each other's faces like water being squeezed from a wet bathing towel. They were very good, but soon I could see their movements slowed and theirs eyes dropped but only when one was knocked out completely did the Commander stop the match and set another one going.

It was very animal, and brutal. The soldiers didn't hold back but let their strength flow. They used all the force they had in the physical and metal bodies. Sending fake throws here and there, swapping hands with their swords and even on the side of the training ground, I saw the people practicing archery using each other's rings, and sometimes even shooting down other's arrows with their own. They were not good, but excellent.

Finally the pairs dwindled to a stop and the men were standing around, taking, laughing and practicing off in smaller rings like I had been doing earlier. That's when the Commander came to me.

'Enjoying yourself?' he asked, his voice clipped and words perfectly formed. Then I wondered, how could words be perfectly formed? Stop this silliness, I told myself.

'Whatever gave you that idea?' I replied, leaning on the wall, my arms crossed across my chest.

He raised his eyebrows. 'You were smiling.'

I shrugged. 'Does that mean I was enjoying myself?' He gave me a disbelieving glance and I sighed. 'Anyway, it would have been a lot more fun if I was fighting, than just watching. I don't know what kind of woman you normal call down from their rooms, by someone else, may I hasten to add, but I'm not one of those woman who's goanna stand around and watch people fight without getting involved.'

The Commander laughed, 'fine, you win.'

'Win what?' I asked.

'Fight me,' he replied already walking over to the ring.

'Are you serious?' Following him anyway.

'I'm always serious,' he said turning from the rack and throwing me a sword, which I caught with some hesitation then took my stance on the edge of the ring, similar to him.

'What now?' I asked, but he didn't reply. Instead he lunged forward, swinging the sword in an arc around his head. I jumped in also, being my arm up to let his sword hit my own, but by the time he had hit I was already turning away, shaking my arm from the impact, then suddenly he was stood before me again.

I had fought people before. Back at the Spymasters garrison we had all trained together in all types of fighting, but we had forever been changing parterres because when you got used to one person you started learning that persons strengths and weaknesses, which it would be very possible to not know in a real life fight and also that went you fight with someone consistently you start to from a bond and sometimes even a friendship, which would slowly become a weakness against you and a barging tool if someone found out. If I was asked who I had trained with, I would not remember names, nor faces, or strengths and weaknesses, but I would remember that they had all been men, and I had beaten most of them, if not all, at least once. I had been good, or most people had thought I was, or heard for most people didn't know other's faces, even in the garrison which I thought of as home even though I had rights to all my father's lands, but that had always been my secret.

I could remember the force that most people put behind their blows, when they forgot training or in a fight when it was not possible to use the power that human bodies supplied us with, but the Commander held back nothing. He was stronger than me, offensively. I could tell that he held nothing back, but even when his blows shattered their way down my arms from my sword, he had a control over his strength that shocked me. Not many people could control their power, and use it affectively during a fight, training match or real.

He spun away from me again, pulling me with him and prizing the sword out of my grip and tossing it away. He grinned down his sword at me, showing white teeth and I barred my own. 'Give up?' he asked carelessly.

'In your dreams,' I hissed and, pushing down on the ground, I bolted up, swing my legs before me and kicking at his own wrist, which made an ugly snapping sound. The commander grunted and dropped his own sword and I landed next to him.

'You're good,' he said lightly, then stepped forward, his hands outstretch and plummeted into my own body before I could move out of the way. We tumbled to the floor together, him on top, but I twisted my body so that my back was to the floor and snaked my legs around his ribs. Tensing them, I rolled to the side, causing him to splay over with me on top.

My hands were as fast as lightning, crashing down on places in places I knew would hurt, but not brake. Some the Commander blocked effortlessly, but even if he was stronger, I was faster and he tired soon, his movements slowed, but then one of his men called out.

'Getting jaded by girl Commander?'

'Come on! Kick her, kick her!'

'Too good for you, cap?'

'Come on girl, kick his ass.'

There catcalls were replied my grunts from the Commander and I twisted my head back a little to see that he was laughing, not grunting and it only took a minute to realise I was laughing too. Maybe I should check myself, it would come to no good. But it was pure happiness. It was a playful fight, a game, not a proper fight, we weren't trying to kill each other but only trying to get the upper hand and have the pleasure of winning.

He pulled his legs under my body and pushed upward. I fell backwards, tumbling in the earth but he was already up and stood next to me. Then his hand shot down, pulling on my hair. I winced, but it quickly. I didn't want to show weakness. I pulled from his grasp and racked my hand down his neck, cutting deep with my nails. He narrowed his eyes and bolted forward again, pushing me backwards. I stumbled on my footing and he grappled at his sword from the ground, pointing it at my neck.

'Your kind of good at this,' I panted, hulling myself up as he lowered his sword, grinning.

'You're alright yourself.' His grin was infectious. He's cocky, I reminded myself, and you don't want to get to know him.

I crossed my arms. 'I think I was better than you.' I replied looking down, disinterestedly at my nails. They were short, I saw, square and flat, his skin under the pale white pages of them.

'That strange coming from someone who just had my sword at their chin,' he said, raising one eyebrow.

'I'd say you cheated,' I looked back up at his face, a grin still on my own.

He gaffed, 'I didn't know there was any rules.'

'Well that's your fault, not mine.'

He shook his head, 'You're unbelievable.' His hand extended from his side. 'Seolfren.'

I stared down at his hand. What did this mean? We were friends? My eyes slowly went back to his face and I quaked my head. 'I don't like it.'

He frowned, 'What don't you like.'

I smiled. 'Your name. I don't like your name.'

He took back his hand. 'Well what's your name then?'

I shook my head again. 'That's off the point, I don't like your name so I going to give you another name, okay.'

He smiled again. 'Only if I can give you a new name as well.'

'Deal.'

I cocked my head to one side, thinking. 'I'm going to call you Silvern.'

He raised both eyebrows. 'Where'd you come up with that?'

'Seolfren. It's the name meaning, "like silver".'

'You're clever.' He replied.

'You're cocky.'

'Confident in my own abilities, I think you mean.'

'See, still cocky,' I huffed. 'Fine. Anyway, what's my new name? It better not be something stupid or I'll-'

'Rip out my tongue and hang me by my toes?'

I huffed again. 'Something like that.'

He chuckled. 'Ani, I think. Know that meaning?'

I glared at him. 'No,' and walked, head back, to my rooms. The sky was darker now, almost vale blue and the stars twinkled down like Godly fire, white in the blackness. Of course I knew what Ani meant, did he think me stupid? Very beautiful, but I would not let him see my smile, because I had already crossed my own boundaries today and to go further might be a very bad idea.

**Well, we'll be seeing more of him, then, won't we guys *wink wink* anyway please review!**


	3. Chapter 3- Followed Silver and Gold

**Hello guys! Um, well, what to say. I know it's weird when you start a story but having you guys review already is great so thanks. **

**KatnipHerondale: yeah well, something is going to happen but I don't know if you'll hate me or not… but if it does I very sorry and I give you permission to kill me and a note saying I won't be able to finish the story because I don't think they have the interweb in the afterlife!**

**Anyway, sorry or any spellings or grammar and please review!**

Forgotten of God 3: Followed Silver and Gold

The streets of Al Shabah were never simply quiet. Even in the early morning, when the sun had hardly launched itself into rising and, instead, lied low in the dessert hills at the bottom of the cities walls, people roamed the tracks set between houses. Most were commoners, dressed in creams and whites and greys to reduce the likelihood of heat touching and burning there browned skin, but some were traders, looking far more self-possessed in jewels and leathers, glancing down there noises and narrowing their eyes at other traders as if they were a hard competition. Others were sailors, shirtless or in rumpled tops placed over sun-bronzed chests. They came from the second gate in the city, leading to the docks by the sea, and that was where I was going.

The second gate was large and constantly open, held back by large iron hocks hidden behind the white-washed walls. Guards stood on watch, standing perfectly still and holding a metal pikes and long shields, watching but not stopping anyone from entering or leaving.

I wasn't going completely towards the gate, only near it. The road was straight, leading down towards the docks, but smaller roads led off it. Unpaved and covered in a layer of dust and dirt, I was careful of the places my feet were being sent to. There was no point in falling into a fault in the road. The smaller roads were a lot less organised. Some were not even meant to be there, and others unmarked on the grand maps of Arrida, held in the archive in Mararoc. They were meant to muddle the people not meant to be there, but signs led to places if you only knew how to look.

The place I was heading for was a kind of hostelry. It was hidden in the under reaches of the city, concealed cleverly under one of the bridges that had been built over the rivers- which now ran dry- that snaked their way down the hills of Al Shabah. It was near to the second gate for many sailors came here to drink swill and whisky and others to exchange commencements and fables. The hostelry was also known as a story room.

Unlike the houses in Al Shabah, the story room was made from brick rather than white-washed stucco, having been made inside a bridge leg. Inside there was no natural light only that of a large circular fire that made the room even stuffier than before. A bar was set to one side and tables to the other, and in the middle near the fire was a person. I had grown used to the people that stood to tell of their own tales and the tales of others. Some were made-up, forged from someone wild imagination, but others were true and some were silent information being passed between teller and watchers.

Today it was a sailor. He told of a storm at sea and the attack of pirates on the ship. It was a good story, but the words were twisted and the fights more blood-thirsty than real life ever allowed- but that was the way of fables. Only half listening I moved through the tables, watchers giving me hardly any notice, and went to the back rooms. It was colder in them for they were underground- the lapping of water could be heard echoing against the brick walls as I moved into the darkness.

'You gave the master wrong information you little cad!' said a voice suddenly. I instantly stopped moving and listened but kept my breathing the same- a change in sound could and would be easily noticed. The voices were further off and, despite my knowledge of understanding there would be no positive outcome of eavesdropping, I walked towards the speakers.

'No, sir-lord… I did not such thing! I… I only told what I found out!'

'You're lying! Get this scurry dog out of my sight! Liars should be brought to the master, he'll want to punish this insolent dog.'

There was a loud thump and then a wince and a moan. The sound of bounding footsteps and jingling swords and a man being dragged away. I knew what I was going to do, before the sounds emptied themselves from the room. Slowly, quietly, I followed them.

* * *

With the amount of nose they made it was almost surprising nobody else was following them. But that was an almost because as soon as the group exited through the back door, their faces- apart from the man with his head masked with a cotton sack- were visible from the glow of the street-lamps, or their eyes were. Dark, Arrid-born eyes, and the rest of them covered in blue veils. A group of Tualaghi- lower, foot soldiers by the looks of it, than my normal kind- who seemed to be working for another Tualaghi. Someone called _Master._

There were people in the streets, but some with pre-warning hurried back into their homes, closing doors and shutters. Others turned away and dropped their eyes. Nobody ever looked at the Tualaghi in fear of their pride and a Tualaghi pride was as important as their own power and lives. Nobody saw me either, not from fear of my pride but because I was as quiet as a feather and my body left no sign but a flickering shadow in the dim light.

We suddenly reached the higher reaches of the city. The houses were larger and in better fair than the ones below. It was positioned like this so that the _Khadif_ sat in the middle, on top of a slight hill, the houses and markets around it, and getting worse in paint. It was not that any of the houses were shacks. Al Shabah was a trading city and a wealthy city. I had been to many cities before and none of the other _Wakirs_ had ever been impressing but rather self-interested and scamming lords, no better than noble thugs and criminals who kept all the money to themselves and did not give a care about the well-fare of their land nor people.

They turned back and I pressed myself into an ally, seeming to become a commoner hiding her face. But the Tualaghi men weren't looking at me they were looking at the houses down a narrow long street. There would be no way for me to follow them down there without their knowledge, but what if I wasn't on the road? What if I was higher?

* * *

Standing on the roof of one of the houses I could see the whole city laid out before me. I could see the sun in the distance and the black sea rippling softly. Light flickering gently in windows and blackness in others. I could hear people without needing to view them, walking and running in the gullies and roads. Sails and masts pocking out over the tops of the roves: blue and white and yellow. Crows, fat and full of fresh meat, sat on the shingle and wooden slates. They cried to each other from roof to roof.

I shockingly found myself looking at the training ground and wondering: _what do would Silvern be doing now? What would he think about me climbing roofs and following Tualaghi in very early morning?_ And then, I told myself, _who cares what he thinks. That little bastard is getting into your head while you're working. Stop thinking about him!_ But of course when one has to stop thinking about something, the something has to be in your mind while you're tying to not think about it and so I sighed and pushed forward. _Already wasting time I told myself_. _It's becoming a bad habit_.

I stepped from roof to roof, aware that any miss-step could cost me my hidden position as it would be pretty impossible not to be seen if someone were to look up. I was in direct glare of the rising sun and walking on the skylines of the city. But the Tualaghi never looked up. They heading was dead on, and they reached the house quickly before entering at the front door.

The house was on the other side of the street. I knew the sensible way to reach the house would be to drop down from this roof and cross the street, looking for another way in but that might lead to me being seen from one of the windows. The other way would be to jump from this roof and into the window opposite me. It was not a hard jump: the street was not wide, but the angle fazed me. If I misjudged the window I could fall down the side of the building. It was not the possibility of injury that worried me, but the nose or sight it would make alerting, possibly, the whole street to their doors. I jumped.

* * *

The man wore rings. Gold flashed on his fingers, hoops hung from his earlobes and sparkling spheres snaked their way up his arms. He did not move as I gripped the window ledge with two tight fists, my legs hanging on nothing but air outside the room. His hand moved across a sheet of rolling parchment, gripping a black quill between his long fingers. I peered more closely, trying to make out any further deifying features on the man's face.

A noise sounded below me and I glanced down to see a cloaked person heading up the street. The person's footsteps were heavy, and their stance blundering and thick. A man, I thought, for they walk without grace or careful pose. The man stopped suddenly, his heed turning to the side slightly. He did not look up, of which I was grateful, but entered the building.

I turned back to the window. The golden man at the desk had stilled his writing and was instead fumbling about with a thin slip of dark material. A veil. A blue veil, I saw. And as the man looked up with the veil fully on, I saw the intensity of his two green eyes. Eyes that demanded attention instead of looked for it. It was Tethous, I realised, with a sinking feeling in my gut.

The door opened and the man who had opened the front door entered, shrugging off his cloak. Underneath he was without a veil, there was no need for one, but I could not see his face for he stood at the back of the room in the shadows, his back to me.

They spoke in hushed whispers. Even in what seemed like Tethous's house, they were weary of being overheard.

'When is the main force to be leaving?' asked the shadowed man.

Tethous did not look up from his parchment, as if he could not really be bothered with talking. 'Two-seven days from now,' he answered, his voice dry but powerful.

'And after that? What then?'

Tethous looked up at that, 'did they not explain anything to you?'

'Pity me, master, and inform me again.' Tethous slipped a sheet across the table. I could not make out the words but it seemed like a kind of account, with numbers not words. I pushed the sheet away in my mind, sending unusable information to the back of my brain and storing away solid knowledge. Tethous was master. He lived in the upper, richer part of the city. He dealt with commoners and non-Tualaghi. He did not trust his men.

Tethous looked down again, content with the silence. I wondered what this was about. Was it the big plan about the force of Tualaghi standing at the Khor-Abash Wells? Is that what they meant by "main force"? Or was it something else? Finally Tethous broke the silence, 'did you bring it then? Because I have been waiting for days and I need it soon-'

'Yes, yes. I have it hear.' Replied the man hurriedly handing over another page. Tethous glared at the man. Tualaghi did not take to being interrupted.

'Good.' There was a dismissal tone in Tethous's voice that made the man turn away to leave but as he passed up the moon light cast through the window I saw the man's eyes. Then his face and the sword confirmed what I was thinking. But it cannot be possible, I thought. He cannot be here. It was Silvern.

I jumped down from the window ledge and ran away from that house as fast as I could.

* * *

By the time I got back it was late evening. Silvern's door was splayed open and he sat at a desk, his hands working their way up and down his sword as he sharpened the blade, and rubbed its tip.

'Trust,' I said, much to his surprise as I entered without permission and went to lean on his desk, 'goes two ways.'

'I haven't the foggiest idea of what you're talking about, Ani.' He said dropping the sword and staring back at me.

'Of course you do!' I shouted at him and he stood in shock. 'I saw you there, talking with the Tualaghi Tethous! Are you a traitor, or a spy, because I think I deserve an answer.'

'Ani, calm down. What is the matter?' His face was so innocent, so insufferably innocent that I wanted to knock his white teeth from his mouth till he had none left. 'Ani sit down.' I sat, numbness spreading.

'I trusted you. I thought you were my friend and now I find you dealing with Tualaghi and lying about it.' I leaned forward in his face and almost spat: 'I _hate_ liars.'

He looked mildly offended. 'Ani, I'm not lying about anything. What do you believe me of lying, for if you tell me properly, you might make sense. I have not met with any Tualaghi today, nor yesterday, nether the day before. And I am neither a traitor nor a spy. I am a commander of a group of soldiers, as you very well saw yesterday, and I do not lie to you. Ever.'

This made no sense. He must be lying, he must. I put my head against the table, covering my neck with my arms, squeezing my fists shut as to shut out the rage boiling inside me. He would not make me that angry, I promised myself. I would not hit him because that would be losing control completely and I would not consent to do so.

'Then how do you come to explain why I saw you inside the house I was watching?' I snarled into the edge of the table, tilting my head a fraction to view him with my eyes.

'I cannot. Maybe your eyes deceived you, or you saw someone else, presuming it was me.'

'If I cannot trust my eyes, how can I trust my other instincts? No, my eyes do not lie to me. But something is lying, and at the moment I think it is you.' He opened his mouth, but I persisted. 'I saw your sword, it's the same.' And of course his sword was easily identified for it was adorned with iron and silver down the blade and the top was shaped in a wings of an eagle, as was mark of commanders although every blade was different.

'That cannot be for I have had my sword with me all day, and I always have it with me. Every day, and every night. And I have not been anywhere outside this building and the counting house.'

'I still don't believe you.' I got up, scraping the chair legs against the floor.

'Ani, I thought we were friends and friends are meant to trust each other.'

Turning back to him, I smiled. 'Fine, come with me.'

**Next one should be soon because I'm enjoying writing this story, but… reviews make me type faster... *hint hint* **


	4. Chapter 4- Mirror Names

**Hello guys, um, as I said on my other story I have written a lot over the past week but without internet I was unable to post anything on FanFiction so here is this chapter. I hope it makes sense and I realise that Aya might have been a bit rushed in her character last chapter but I think she's alright in this chapter. Um, sorry for any spellings or grammar and thank you for all your review for the last chapter.**

Forgotten of God 4: Mirror Names.

Racing through the streets I pushed the argument to the back of my mind. It would do no good for me to wonder on things previously said- for when words are spoken they can never be taken back. Silvern, his breathing steady and arms swinging lightly as he ran beside me, still looked perplexed but he stayed with my course. Maybe I had been wrong to accuse him of lying.

His sword slapped against his back, making a light tapping thud, like rain, to background our breathing and padded footsteps. I could just see the silver blade, peaking over the top as it rose and fell with each step Silvern took. There was no sword like it, was there? I was sure I had seen it on the man, and the face- it had been like looking at a ghost- but I had only seen a flicker. Could I be wrong? When was the last time I had been fooled by myself, when I had been wrong last?

We rounded the corner and I slowed, Silvern- matching my range and pose- also halted. I breathed deeply, bending over and panting to get in small slips of air. I had not done such an intense run for years, but it had reduced my anger and made my head become clear and steady.

Silvern hardly looked tired, he looked around absently- taking in the houses. 'Alright Ani, you've taken me here. What now?'

I lifted myself up, taking that time to glare at him. 'Be silent. You're going to end up waking the whole street.'

He gulfed, putting a hand to his chest in mock offence, but remained quiet to which I was grateful. I motioned for him to follow me, perceptive to his every movement. I realised with a sudden jolt, I had only ever worked alone. What if this was too risky? What if my plan came to nothing?

We turned down an ally, me marking off the streets in my head almost unconsciously. Finally, when we reached the street with the house that I had been to this morning, I pulled the blue veil from my pocket and hurriedly wrapped it around my face. Silvern watch, true to his word, stood watching without muttering a thing. Finally finished with the scarf I pulled my tunic straight, pushed my shoulders back and teachered my expression to a haughty snarl before turning to the house and knocking on the door.

There was a seconds moment before the door opened, sending a large square of white light on the front steps. The servant looked up at me, his features schooled but his gaze wavered.

'What business do you require with the master?' he questioned.

_Be brave,_ I told myself. _Play the part_.

I pushed passed the servant and into the large foyer. I gave the man a low glower and turned disinterestedly to the door and peered into the centre yard through long glass panels framed to fit inside the wide door. 'Tell your master Lady Aya is here to see him.' The servant shuffled away, through the panel doors and Silvern took that time to stalk over to me.

'What, in the blazing suns name, do you think you're doing? Do you have a death wish?' He looked constricted, and I turned away from him- it was my experiment. Would Tethous know Silvern? Were they really working together?

The servant man came back looking resigned. 'My lady,' he turned to look at Silvern, narrowing his eyes, 'sir, the master please asks you to come to his office. He will present himself in a while but for now he is very busy with a pressing matter.' I nodded and followed the man to the office upstairs.

The window was still open, the place I had been this morning, and the high wind made the candles flicker. Silvern, looking around-his eyes searching- finally came to rest on me. He stormed over, catching my arm in his right hand and pulling on it. 'What do you think you're doing?'

I glare defiantly up at him, not answering. Yanking my arm from his grip I moved over to the desk. It was a mountain of paper, some maps. Carefully, pushing through the pages, I searched for the account that had passed between the two men this morning. It was impossible of course, there were too many sheets of brown, yellow and white. Sighing, I moved to stand behind the desk, opening the draws and cupboards that were situated in the desk legs. There were more papers in there and peering more closely I saw that they were different. Huffing, I pulled out around ten of the scrolls and splayed them across the desk. Unrolling the corners I saw that they were maps.

Silvern walked to the table also, peering across the desk watching me. I worried at my lip. The map I had opened was a plot of the desert, it had the Wells of Khor-Abash to one side of the Red Hills and the Wells of Orr-Sann to the other. At the top, North-East, by the recorded compass, was Mararoc: the capital. By Khor-Abash there was a note of near-illegible handwriting and a number. I could not decipher the scrawl of writing but I could understand the number. It was a large number, no doubt a detailing of the number of Tualaghi at the Well.

Another map, this one with a broken seal, was a plot of dotted lines. There was one line splitting into two at the base of the Red Hills, of which both then curved around the mountain and reaching both East and West gates of Mararoc city. It was a battle plan, I realised, and slipped the map into my pocket. Placing the other maps back in the cupboard, I resumed my lofty expression and settled back in Tethous's chair, shoving my dust crusted boots onto of the papers and resting on the edge of the desk.

'You're crazy,' growled Silvern, none to quietly. I raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to sit down. He remained standing.

'Sit down,' I said again, making my voice low-toned and important. Silvern did, finally letting out a low hiss between his teeth, but the sound was cut short by the door swinging open and Tethous walking in. Silvern frozen in his seat but Tethous did not even take care to look at him, if you were not a Tualaghi you were not worth the time. He stormed over to his desk, leather knee-high boots pounding against the wooden floor boards.

He stopped before me. 'Well make yourself at home then,' Tethous said, his voice forebodingly low. I ignored the tone and did not answer. Finally he continued. 'What are you doing here, woman? We have not secured a meeting for some days, nor have we planned one. What is your game?'

I tilted my head up so that I could be even with his glaze. 'No game, I'm finding out information, as you told me.'

His glaze narrowed into a menacing glower. 'And finding information, of course, means that you should break into my office?'

I pulled my boots off the table, nocking pages to the floor but neither of us looked. 'I did not break into your office remember. I knocked on your front door and your servant took me,' I looked across the desk at Silvern, 'and my friend here. Convenient, I would say.'

Tethous, for the first time, transfixed his gaze to Silvern. He hissed low. 'I did not know. Woman, how did you come to know this common Arrid?'

I stood from his chair and moved around to the window and leaned against the sill, discerning that my neck was hot and my back was sweaty. 'I need my sources, Tethous.'

Tethous turned back to Silvern, his gaze unfriendly. 'Earlier, downstairs, I told you to leave. Why did you not leave?'

For a moment I thought that Silvern would not answer. His dark eyes met mine across the room and then he spoke, 'I did leave, but then Lady Aya caught up with me and I returned here with her.'

'Well, Uriyah, you are now dismissed. Leave.' Silvern turned and without catching my eyes again, left the room.

Tethous moved across the room to where I had been previously and sat down at desk. He stared at me. 'What information has this mission concluded then?'

I kept a sober expression. 'Not much. You have a force of three-thousand at the Khor-Abash Wells and you plan to siege Mararoc. What I'm wondering is why you did not inform me of this. I would join the force, you know that.'

His gaze became blank, without feeling. 'I trust my instincts and so far you are unpredictable. Yes, you would be a valued resource- a money lender and a keeper and dealer with secrets- but I do not have complete confidence with you yet. Maybe, once you have proven your worth, you may join.'

I nodded as if I conceived his train of thought. 'My loyalties lie with the Tualaghi,' I said forcefully.

He pushed his hands to the table, hunching over the desk like a looming dark monster. 'Prove it then.'

* * *

Outside the house I breathed in the fresh air, pulling the scarf from around my face. Silvern was nowhere in sight but that did not mean he was not close. I turned on my heel and stalked back down the road we had come up.

I was still muddling through the facts I had gathered by the time I reached the end of the road. Tethous had known Silvern but by a different name: Uriyah. It was strange, not the fact that Tethous knew a different identity- undercover people did that all the time, I just chose not to, but because as soon as the other name had been said, Silvern had sprang from tense to calm. I sighed, scuffing my feet into the dirt. It was all too confusing.

I jerked my head upwards at the sound of people, it would do no good to be seen out at night. Pushing forward, making my strides longer and more pronounced to gain speed without running, I progressed down the street staying closer to the houses. The noises grew louder and as I turned again I saw a street fight. Two men were rolling around in the dirt, towns-people huddling in doorways, leaning from windows and those confidant enough were shouting them on.

I carried on, keeping my face down, and tried to scoot around the brawl but it came to no arrival. One of the men hulled the other to his feet, balling the man's shirt in fist and slammed him into the house, and me in front of it.

I winced, my lungs burning as the man was pushed against me. The man holding the other looked over his shoulder and I saw through a bundle of dark hair Silvern. He realised the other man at once who plummeted to the floor like a bag of bones. He rushed over, words of concern already forming on his lips as he grasped my arm, but they were cut short as he was pulled away, dragging me with him.

We tumbled together and splayed across the ground. Silvern put one arm across my torso protectively and the other on the chest of the other man. 'Stop,' he hissed, almost too quiet that I didn't hear over the ringing in my ears. 'You'll hurt her.'

The other man continued anyway, throwing punches at Silvern's tanned face. He pushed me away with a solid grunt and caught the man's wrists with his own. He pulled the man up again and the kicked at each other and till Silvern stumbled backwards and landed in a water toff. He came back up dripping and glaring.

I stood, taking my knife from my belt I brandished at the man knowingly. He laughed and moved forward anyway. 'Put the knife away, little girl.' He said, his voice strangely familiar. I lunged at him but he jumped backwards. Swinging, twisting and ducking we fought together. He was tall, like Silvern but instead of having a tick torso he was lean, made for running, like me.

Suddenly the knife was knocked from my hand. I turned and saw the cities watch standing in a small group of ten. Two were already pulling Silvern from the water toff and the others were standing to barrier the man and me. I cursed under my breath. I was going to _kill _Silvern.-

* * *

I woke to hazy light shifting from my right and left eye. It smelled, I realised. Of puke and urine. I huddled into myself, content in the dark and without the smell. I hand shook me, none to gently.

'Come on Ani. Wake up.' I opened my eyes slowly, lifting my head up so that I could see Silvern's face clearly. He had a twisted noise, I could see, and was crusted with black blood and mire still leaked in a slow river down his chin, mixed with snot.

I laughed slowly, the sound making my head thump. 'Your face looks funny.' I said, reaching out. Silvern stilling back on his hind legs smiled.

'You don't look any better. I could swear you have poo in your hair, and you smell.' I glare at his grinning face.

'She smells a lot better than you,' said another voice and I peered over my knees to see the speaker. He was standing up in the corner, his arms folded across his long chest. His white shirt was worn, and ripped. The man's face looked just as bad as Silvern's, a nasty purple-yellow bruise closing his right eye and his lip split in several areas.

'Where are we?' I asked, turning back to face Silvern. 'Who's he? Why am _I_ here? Why do I have poo in my hair? Why were you two fighting-?'

Silvern put his hands up to halt the flow of questions. 'One at a time, Ani.'

The man in the back of the room pushed forward from the corner and came to stand next to Silvern still crouching. 'We are in the Watch dungeons. You are here because you're a knife-wielding-maniac. The poo is in your hair because I think you've been sleeping on it, which, of course my brother thought was really humorous. We were fighting because, well, I not completely sure but he attacked me…' his voice tittered off as I stared. 'What? Did I say something wrong?' he aimed the last question at Silvern who shrugged.

'Your brothers?' I asked, unsteady.

Silvern nodded. 'Twins actually.'

I narrowed my eyes, looking at them both. Silvern had tanned skin, short dark brown hair- bleached from sun- and black eyes. He was tall with a thick torso and hard pact muscles in his skin from weapon-combat and warfare. His brother, in comparison, was tall and lean. Dark black hair was just over chin length and was swept in a tail at the back of his head. As I looked closely I saw that his eyes were a dark sapphire. But when I looked at them both, despite their obvious differences, they were similar.

I asked hesitantly, not sure if I was walking into uncertain territory. 'Are you Uriyah?'

'It's my cover name,' he said, and I realised why I had found his voice familiar. It was deep, but when Silvern's had been playful, his was serous.

'And you're a spy?' I queried.

I looked as if he wasn't going to answer but then relented. 'If that's what you're going to call it then yes.'

I nodded, contented, but then asked: 'What's your real name?'

He replied, turning to go and sit back in his corner. 'Cerulean.'

**Okay, so there we have it. Twins. I'm sorry if you didn't like it but I really wanted to try and have like a TRANGLE OF *WINK WINK* **_**FRIENDS! **_

**Anyway please review!**


	5. Chapter 5- Questions and Maybes

**Hello guys! Um… thank you for the reviews, I don't think I got round to replying to them but, yeah thank you anyway! Sorry this look long than a week, normally i post it sooner but my life juts got busy again with school so yeah… sorry for any spellings or grammar and hope you enjoy!**

Forgotten of God 5: Problems and Maybes. 2321

It was around evening when the _Wakir _stormed in, his face red from the heat and followed by the Key Master. I hurried to my feet, lowering my head in submission and knowledge of ranking. The _Wakir_ did not even give me a glance but turned to where Cerulean stood impassive in the corner with his eyes shut. I had started to wonder in the man slept in a bed or stood all through the night, for indeed one's legs would start to ach after a while, would they not?

Keeping his eyes trained on Cerulean he spoke. 'Thank you Key Master. That will be all.' The old man wandered off, the jingle of metal thumping on metal disappearing slowly.

The _Wakir _spoke forcefully, but calmly. 'Cerulean. What happened here?'

Cerulean answered without opening his eyes. 'Ask my brother. He's that one that attacked me in the middle of the street.'

Silvern, laying on his back with one arm splayed casually across his eyes, spoke. 'You keep on saying _attacked_. I did not attack you, I confronted you in an aggressive manner.'

'Always one for force, were you not?' asked Cerulean.

'You did not seem to mind, brother,' replied Silvern, shifting so that he was sitting on his hind legs.

Cerulean cracked his knuckles. 'Hadn't had a good fight in weeks. Needed to-'

'Release some manly antagonism?' asked Silvern, his tone innocent.

'I was going to say wake my physiques,' Cerulean replied, opening his eyes. 'But manly antagonism fits nicely does it not?'

'I think so.' Agreed Silvern, then turned to me who was still getting past the fact that they were acting so fundamental and ignorant of the _Wakir's_ presence. 'Do you concur, Ani?'

Three pairs of eyes swung on me and I felt heat rising on my neck. '_What_?'

'I said-' started Silvern but the _Wakir_ cut him off, staring at me. His eyes then balled into Silvern.

'You got a spy involved in your foolish street fight? She is working on bringing down the Tualaghi and you think it is appreciated that she is put in the Watch's prison? If her cover is blown, or they think she is no longer safe because she had been caught, do you think they will be thoughtless enough to trust her again?'

Silvern and Cerulean were silent, both looking at the _Wakir_, their smiles gone. I spoke up for the first time. 'They did not mean to endanger my mission sir. And nobody important saw us, I'm curtain.'

'If you're sure?' I nodded and he motioned towards the door. 'That is fine then, you are free to leave.'

I walked towards the door, dusting my trousers with my hands but succeeded in making them even dirtier. I suddenly had a thought and worried against my lip, 'Sir?' The_ Wakir _turned again. 'I- um, if this gets on my record, I mean that I got arrested, and the Spy Master inMararoc finds out, well…'

He smiled warmly. 'Don't worry, I'm sure nothing of this was your fault. This will not be held against you.' I managed a tight smile for myself and turned away. The _Wakir_ started talking again once I'd left. 'Boys, what will your mother say when she finds out!' I stopped in the middle of the corridor almost walking into an open door in doing so. Cerulean and Silvern where the _Wakir's_ sons. Oh, I should have guessed.

* * *

The moon fell across my bed. The bed sheets appearing like a sea of shadow and light. The material was soft and, despite the heat, the room was taciturn. My hair had long since dried and lay across the pillow like a river of brown.

I could not find sleep. I was restless, my body humming with energy and my mind whizzing through the map and the information I had stolen. The map sat on my table, meters away, and in plane eyesight. I rolled over burring my face in the pillow.

How was I meant to gain Tethous's trust? I had played it safe these past weeks. Forming my new identity, building around facts and sensibly contrived lies, prodding in the Tualaghi community standing station around _Al Shabah_. I had spent weeks in _Mararoc_ to gather information and the Spy Master had taken out a big loan from the _Emrikir's_ treasuries so that other spies and I could pose as money lenders in big cities. From there it was simple. Whatever Tethous was planning it was big, and being raiders of cities and towns- owning no real work- made money scarce. But then playing a money lender was a gamble, for who in their right mind would trust one? Maybe I had been too palpable in my act. I had been walking around at night, maybe that had soured mistrust, and the deep interest of the _Wakir_ would be a sign of suspiciousness. What kind of Tualaghi would spend time with the "enemy"?

Sighing, I sat up, pulling the sheet around my shoulders. I hadn't been trained for _this_. Something told me I was getting into something bigger than I wanted, something dangerous. I hadn't prepared to gain trust, normally I could recover information and get out, but this was different, wasn't it? I wasn't recovering information, I was detailing it. I was making the plans, without help and there was no back up that I could call apart from my contact- but he found me, not the other way around. And contacts were really just a secure passing of messages, or normal useless advice.

The map, I couldn't be sure, but if I was right… Pushing myself off the bed and pulling on my shirt and trousers, I grabbed the map and hurried out the door. If I was right then the Tualaghi were not just planning a raid. No, I had been right about that when I told the Wakir in the first place. It was siege; a plan to overpower Arrida as a country by taking control of its heart, and killing its sovereign. It was an act of war.

* * *

I knew the library would be empty when I arrived. Its doors, looming great things- reaching tall and wide and engraved with Ancient Arrid writing around the squared edges. I could remember learning the Ancient langue, it was hard- so hard that it was almost forgotten- and I only knew the fundamentals but I could still understand most of the writing. It was inscribed with names of the God's. There was Mannaz or Madr who was the God of Humanity or Man depending on the religion and age.

Underneath each God was an inscription, or a type of poem.

_A mirthful man is to his kinsmen dear;_

_Yet each one must from the others turn,_

_Because Man desires by his decree_

_To deliver that frail flesh to earth. _

Then there was Naudiz who was the God of Necessity, Craving and Desire which was the same God as the one on the Great Mararoc Library. Named there because of the craving of knowledge and the necessity of understanding literature and history.

_Hardship lies heavily on the heart,_

_Yet oft to the children of men._

_It becomes nonetheless a help and healing_

_If they heed the time._

Then lastly there was Gebo who is the God of Gifts, meaning of which was relevant to the literature and the Gifts that it gave us.

_Generosity in Men is to honour and praise_

_And dignity a prop;_

_And for every wreak_

_Riches and substance, who had naught else._

I pushed the doors open and slipped through, closing them behind me. Taking a candle from the wall I walked forward, marking off sections as I went. I passed Heritage, Linage, Tax Records, Death Records, and all the other types of Records, Plans, and Maps. Books and books and books.

_Answers. I need answers_, I thought desperately. _I need someone to tell me what to do. What do I do?_

The map felt like it was burning a hole in pocket, the pages smouldering and the words scorching through my trousers and on to the skin on my leg underneath.

_What do I do? _

_What do I do?_

Reaching for the map again, I unfolded the page and stared at it. Maybe this was meaningless. Maybe it meant nothing at all. Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. Silvern had been right, it had been foolish to take the map, but… I closed the page, leaning back on the bookshelf behind me. If I was right, this could mean the Tualaghi had a plan to take cover the country and if they did- I didn't even want to think about that.

I should just concentrate on getting closer to Tethous, and then, when he trusted me, maybe he would explain all this. But maybe he wouldn't.

Too many uncertainties. Too many _maybes_.

I had come here for answers, but I had too many questions and no idea where to look and what I was even searching for.

Sighing, I pushed myself forward and exited the row. Beige light glowed down the column, the shelves casting long diagonal shadows on the floor. _Odd,_ I though. _I could have sworn the library would have been empty, it normally is. _

The map, having been pushed to the back of my mind, was momentarily forgotten as I sauntered towards the yellow glare. Suddenly footsteps irrupted behind me and grew louder and louder till a looming great figure pushed passed me, and into the torches shimming.

The figure bent over a great sand wood table, placing down books, spilled on top of more books, with long thin hands. Some pages were open but the light was so bright that the letters smudged and zoomed in and out of focus so that I could not read the words. The person sat down glancing up at me than back down at the table where he slowly moved a page from the top of the pile in front of him so that its contents were hidden from sight.

I snorted and the man looked up again. Slowly his features came into focus, more defined than Silvern's- sharper and more intelligent looking. Where Silvern's eyes were a dark green, mixed with brown, Cerulean's eyes were sapphire and held an unwavering calmness and weariness. Still, his hand hovered over some of sheets despite my laugh. I understood his want to keep information hidden, but to do it in that way- well it was just funny, if slightly rude.

'Hello,' he said plainly.

Aware of the map in my hand again, I slipped it back into my pocket. 'Hello,' I repeated in way of greeting.

He said nothing for a moment, just watching and I had to quell the urge to shift my footing. 'Did you want something?' he asked finally, pulling a book towards him and flipping through the pages.

I stared down at the desk. It was completely covered in books and sheets, piled high like a paper city. 'No. Yes. Well, maybe. I'm not sure,' I told him sighing.

From the corner of my eye I saw his lip twitch but his expression did not change. Maybe I'd imagined it. 'I cannot help you if that's your answer,' he said, turning his page. I caught a glimpse of the page but then Cerulean turned it again. 'And if it's not me you're going to ask for help- for whatever reason that may be- I do wonder why you came here of all places. This place is nothing but a dust collection that will give you a sore throat if you disturb enough of it.'

I narrowed my eyes at him but Cerulean just made a small notation on a sheet of paper without looking up. 'Now I'm sure with the amount of volumes your find in here, there is at least a tiny percentage of helpfulness, do you not think?' I asked. Cerulean did not answer. 'Libraries are full of ideas. Dangerous ideas, one could say. It's no wonder why it went out of fashion.' I paused. Nothing. Not a flicker went through his eyes. 'I could, of course ask, why you are here?'

Cerulean put his hand down on the book and looked up. Leaning back in his seat, he balanced his chair precariously on its hind legs. 'Now, I can understand why brother likes you, you talk too much.' He drilled his gaze into me but I preserved my looked to be as even as his. 'Is your purpose here to just be irritating, or are you going to tell me what's bothering me and finish bothering me.'

Slowly I moved towards the table and slipped into the chair. Cerulean pulled the book closer to himself, then thinking that was not enough, closed the outer cover; concealing what lay beneath. I laughed air again. 'Where's your trust. I'm not here to spy on your work, if that's what you're thinking.'

His mouth pulled to the side, contemplating me. 'Where's yours. You can't make up your mind whether you should trust me or not,' he replied.

I looked down at my hand, picking at my nails under the table. 'I found something,' I told his quietly. 'And I'm not sure what to do with it.'

'Would you say it's important,' he asked, his voice hitched.

My eyes flicked up to his. 'I think so.'

'But you're not sure?' he questioned, landing stolidly on four the four chair legs.

'No.'

He frowned slightly. 'Then do what you're meant to do. Do your job and confirm the uncertain.'

'And if it's true… well, what do I do then?' I asked him.

'I suppose that's up to you to decide, but if it's as important as you think then tell someone that can do something about it. Someone who you _know_ you can trust.'

**Yeah so, that's that! Please review and tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6- Filled but Empty

**Hello, guys. Yes again i am aware i have not replied to the reviews so i'm going to do it here. *Stomps foot on ground***

**moniquebowman: thank you! i'm glad you liked that idea because i was like debating whether or not to do it for ages!**

**Amazingwriter123: Yeah well, i think i'm goanna put a few more twist in this story!**

**KatnipHerondale: well, i'm sure somethings goanna happen at some point! I'm glad you can decide between them, but then i'm not at the same point! How i'm i going to decide which one has a MOMENT with her now- help me out here please!**

**Well this is more of a filler chapter, and i don't think it is very well written but please review anyway and i'm sorry for any spellings or grammar! **

Forgotten of God 6: Filled but Empty.

'I know you're there, Zaki,' I whisper, sitting up in bed. Pulling the cover around my shoulders, and staring off into the darkness I see his figure sitting at the table, outlined with pure yellow light from the slowly dying cinders.

It always surprises me how much I look like my brother. We both have dark hair, his maybe a tone lighter for he spent more time outside than me, but that could not be seen in the darkness of the night spreading through the room. And his eyes were the same as mine: sparkling blue, shimmering like beacons, waving me home. His skin is almost white in the limited light, but I know he is as tanned as myself, and as he picks up a book from the table I see his bitten nails- a similar habit as my own.

'The Tales of Yancey and his Eagle,' he reads aloud. 'Stories of The Graceful God's. Ancient Arrida: A Study of Langue.' He looks at me bewildered. 'You don't really read this crap, do you?'

Rolling my eyes, I slip out of bed. I'm asleep, I know that, so the harshness of the floors cold does not make me shiver and the windows being open do not affect the heat of the room. I go to the table and sit in the seat opposite Zaki.

'It's not crap,' I say, pulling the pile of books away from him and into the safety of my lap. 'You'll find that Yancey's quite sarcastic and a schadenfreude throughout the whole novel. And why I don't expect you to understand why Ancient Arrid is important, because you always hated our history lessons, I find it interesting.'

He laughs. When he laughs he looks like father, because his long face seems to split open and it's like looking at a different person completely. 'Testy tonight, are we not?' he says.

I send him a meaningless glare and fold my arms across my torso. 'So are you here to just bug me, and mock me for my reading taste or are you actually here from some kind of important purpose?'

He pulls and innocent face that makes me want to punch him. 'Seriously, Aya. Can you not just be pleased that your dead brother,' he puts stress on the word "dead", 'has come to see you?'

'Don't play guiltless with me,' I tell him, then shake my head. 'You're unbelievable you know that right?'

He pouts, his lips pulling upward despite himself. 'Come now. I'm only interested in your finding.'

Well, of course it would be the map he would want to see.

_Tell someone that can do something about it. Someone who you know you can trust._ I suppose you can't get safer than a dead boy that's a figment of my imagination, trapped inside my head so that I hallucinate him talking to me.

I pull the map from my pocket. I'm not wearing the same clothes as the ones I know that really have the map in, but it's a dream, and in dreams, everything is covenant. I spread the map out on the table, flattering the corners with my palms, and push it towards Zaki.

'It's interesting, I can say that. And now I know why you've been working yourself into such a frenzy.'

'So can you tell anything else from it,' I ask, hope creeping into my voice.

He looks at me blankly. 'Aya, don't be thoughtless. I know just as much as you do. Remember, I'm not here,' he stamps his foot on the floor, 'I'm in there,' he says, pointing at my head. 'I know what you know, and that's about it.'

I breath an angry sigh, snatching the map from the table. 'What good are you then, if you can't tell me anything other than what I already know?'

'I'm not real. I'm only here because you're imagining me here.'

Glaring at him, I say: 'then go away if you're not going to be useful.'

He does. His body, staring from the bottom and rising upwards, turns bright like a glowing furnace then turns to smoke, till there is nothing but his smiling face staring at me. 'When you find out more, sister, be sure to tell me,' he says, then his head disappears too, and I'm left with the smell of ashes and the memory of a ghost that lives in my mind.

* * *

I splutter at the water that pours onto my head, soaking my hair and dripping onto the table like rain on glass. It sends shivers down my neck, and I sit up, greatly annoyed, and ball at Silvern's laughing face.

'Why'd you wake me up, you incompetent fool?' I ask him, glaring. 'I was having a lovely dream,' which was a lie, because I'd only dreamt one thing last night and that was of my brother.

'Well you needed to wake up at some point, Ani,' Silvern replies. Opening his mouth to speak, I can see mushed up food, sticking to his teeth and staining cream on his tongue.

'Disgusting,' I mutter. 'Can you not speak without food in your mouth?'

He shrugs. 'I'm hungry,' he mumbles through a mouthful of greens that are too long to fit in his mouth and stick from his lips like green fangs.

I suppress a smile. 'And why not eat in your own rooms? Why bother me?'

He gives me a mock hurt look. 'Why, I was lonely, and anyway you should be honoured to have such an esteemed person, such like myself, in your rooms to talk to.'

I push my wet hair from my face, and frown at him, concealing my smile. 'You mean such a pain-in-the-ass person, such like yourself I think.'

He gulfs, placing a hand to his chest. 'You offend me, my friend.'

I laugh and pull his plate between us so that I can reach the food as well. 'I'm sure,' I mumble through a large bit of bread.

'Look who's the hypocrite now!' he says loudly, leaning back in his chair. His posture is so relaxed, it makes me feel safe. It makes me ach for a place that does not exist; a place called home. It makes me slightly homesick, for a place that I am imagining.

'I'm _allowed_ to be a hypocrite. The world is full of them,' I respond, slouching forward, rubbing my elbows on the table till they burn red.

'I don't believe you. The path to righteousness is through truth and honesty.'

'Don't you think everyone would be very offended if everyone else walked around telling them exactly what they think about them?'

He shakes his head. 'No, I think it's a seamlessly perfect idea.'

I lift my mug to his face. 'Keep dreaming on.'

'Oh, don't worry. I will.'

* * *

It was so easy to talk to him. We spoke for what seemed like years, endlessly finding things to discuss without tiring. It was only when the wind shattered against the pane of glass and the window sprang free of its latch and opened, did the cold air awake us from the haze of each other so that we saw it was night. The stars twinkled in the blue sky, and glimmered on the sea water like sunrise. Our talk ended and he stood, but did not leave. He just watched me, his green eyes glittering in the candle light.

'What?' I asked, rubbing my forehead. 'Is there something on my face?'

His voice was so gentle, so tender, that I was sure he was whispering. 'It's your eyes.' Yes, he would have noticed them by now. I stared at the ground. They were an odd color, and stood out because they were too bright and too big, too wide. 'Hey, look at me.' I felt his hand on my chin. His fingers were not soft, they were coarse and worn from using weapons and fighting for considerable amounts of time. They tugged at my face, but I kept my eyes trained on the floor, looking at him only with the corner of my eye. 'They're beautiful, Ani.'

I looked at him then, a deep swelling churning in my stomach. 'It not true,' I told him thickly. 'They're just unnatural.'

'Unnatural is interesting.'

'But interesting is not beautiful.'

'It can be,' he whispered, removing his hand. Despite myself, I missed the tingling that it had caused me to feel.

'But I'm not.'

He stops, sighing, contemplating me. 'You can't see it, can you?'

'What?'

'You,' he replies.

I laugh, but nothing is funny. Although it does fill the silence that is filling me with a burning knowledge that he likes me. But he only likes the parts that he's seen. I'm afraid that one day he'll see me the way I see myself. 'Come now,' I tell him. 'You've known me little more than days.'

'Well, as it turns out, you can find out a lot about a person in less than one day.' His lips twist. 'Also, I have excellent detection skills, so I have an advantage.'

'But-' a knock sounds behind the door, silencing me in mid-sentence.

_But, how could you like someone like me?_

I spring from my chair and walk towards the door. When I open it, my hands gripping white to the side of the doorframe, I swallow hard but Cerulean does not even look at me. His sapphire eyes glaze over my head and two where I can feel Silvern is standing behind him.

'Your late,' Cerulean says. I step backwards, my shoulders bumping into Silvern's chest. He steadies me with a small hand on my shoulder and moves past me and too the door.

'I'll see you later,' he says quietly. I push a smile on my face but as soon as he turns it slips away. We are fragile and I cannot comprehend whether I am broken or happy, or maybe standing in the middle.

I am left with two blue eyes watching me through the door. I stare back. His face slowly disappears as he closes the door but I can still those sapphire beacons. His eyes make me fell weak. I am a weak, ephemeral creature made of mud and dreams. I am looking for myself in places that I will never be. I am looking for a person to trust but every time I get close to tell someone the words burn in my mouth. I am too easily distracted. I am too easy to lies. I am prone to finding comforts selfishly in other people.

_Who can I trust?_

**Yeah, hope you enjoyed it. Personally i didn't like writing this chapter.. but if you guys liked it, who cares!**


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